In late January a delegation from the newly launched religious freedom organization, 21st Century Wilberforce Initiative, travelled to northern Iraq. Our visit coincided with the start of Baoutha, a three-day celebration in the Chaldean Catholic Church marked by prayer and fasting.
The word Baoutha is an Aramaic word that means pleading.
In the 16th century a plague fell upon Nineveh. Desperate to be spared from this sickness, the people turned to their bishop for help. He came upon the story of Jonah in the Old Testament—an ancient tale of penance, forgiveness and ultimately a city spared.
The bishop instructed his parishioners to fast and ask God’s forgiveness. At the end of the third day, the spread of the plague had miraculously halted.
Today, in the 21st century, a different plague grips the Nineveh Plains. But the destruction the Islamic State of Iraq and Syria (ISIS) leaves in its wake is just as grave.
Entire communities have been devastated. Ancient holy sites destroyed—including the tomb of the prophet Jonah, revered in all three Abrahamic faiths.
With evil unleashed in their land, Iraq’s Christians, and other vulnerable religious minorities, are pleading for help like their ancestors of old. They increasingly see no future for themselves or their children in this land. Many are reluctantly emigrating. Our delegation was told that on average, 12 Christian families leave Iraq each day. Their numbers dwindling, we are forced to conceive of a modern-day Iraq left with nothing more than a remnant of this once vibrant faith community—not unlike Iraq’s Jewish community which in 1949 numbered 130,000, but now amounts to less than 10.
News from the region last month was dominated by the Iraqi government and allied militias’ success in retaking Tikrit from ISIS—this after several failed attempts. Ultimately the city was reclaimed after U.S. airstrikes buttressed the stalled ground offensive—air strikes which were complicated by the undeniable reality of growing Iranian influence in Iraq.
In the lead-up to the Tikrit offensive startling images emerged on social media of Major General Qasem Suleimani, the legendary leader of the elite Iranian Quds Force, operating alongside top Iraqi officials in and around the city. Shi’ite militias under Quds command were at the center of the fight.
A March 19 Voice of America piece reported, “…regional power broker Iran dominates the Iraqi landscape. On the battlefield, Iran is helping Iraq push out Sunni-dominated Islamic State extremists from key northern cities…Tehran has permeated deeply into Baghdad’s security and intelligence apparatus.”
Iran’s growing prominence threatens to further exacerbate deep sectarian divides in Iraq—a scenario which never bodes well for religious and ethnic minorities.
Against the backdrop of this complex crisis, the Obama administration released a National Security Strategy earlier this year calling for “strategic patience” in the battle against ISIS—syntax which belies the utter urgency with which the Islamic State should be confronted. Even now, the strategic city of Ramadi, capital of the country’s Anbar province, may soon fall to ISIS.
America’s unsure footing, in the face of this insidious threat, has not only imperiled minority faith communities but also strengthened Iran’s hand.
An Iraqi nun, recently forced from Qaraqosh by ISIS, lamented, “Our situation after eight months from our displacement is not getting better. Every day we face new challenges.”
For those Christians, Yezidis and other ethnic and religious minorities who have remained in Iraq, like this young nun, the horror of their initial displacement has evolved into a resigned despair. They are accidental nomads in the lands their people have inhabited for centuries.
While there may not be easy military or political solutions to the current crisis, the White House can fill the vacant post of Special Envoy for Religious Minorities in the Middle East and South Central Asia.
The position was signed into law by the president last August, precisely the month that ISIS forced thousands from the Nineveh Plains. The White House has made it a practice of appointing envoys for all manner of causes, often absent congressional authorization. The legislation creating this envoy enjoyed broad bipartisan support in both Houses of Congress as well as the backing of major faith-based organizations in the U.S. and strategic diaspora communities. Just this week a group of more than 50 non-governmental organizations (NGOs), scholars, religious leaders, and human rights advocates sent a letter urging the president to swiftly fill the post. A similar bipartisan, bicameral congressional letter, signed by 43 Members of Congress, was sent last week.
Would an envoy fix the problem? A tall order it seems. But a senior envoy at the State Department could begin the important, and overdue task, of proposing policy solutions geared toward the survival of these ancient faith communities before the tide has irrevocably turned against them. And perhaps just as significantly, such an appointment would provide hope, something in short supply in the camps of Iraqi Kurdistan, to those who increasingly wonder at the West’s silence in the face of their misery.
Elyse Bauer Anderson is Senior Advisor and Director of Special Projects at the 21st Century Wilberforce Initiative.